


Deleted Scens from When The Improbable Is True

by sirro134



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Werewolf!Greg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 03:13:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6498619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirro134/pseuds/sirro134
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I loved the idea of Greg being Hell Hound so I wrote a few scenes I thought might work in between FandomNutter's When the Improbable Is True (WHICH IS AWESOME!!) So the idea is their's I just played with it a bit. So Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deleted Scens from When The Improbable Is True

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FandomNutter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomNutter/gifts).
  * Inspired by [When The Improbable Is True](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3873547) by [FandomNutter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomNutter/pseuds/FandomNutter). 



Hell hound  
(An added bit to where Greg and John speak for the second time.)  
“Look, I know we didn’t get off on the right foot-“  
“Paw in your case.”  
“Very funny. The point is... my partner doesn’t know what I am.”  
“And you’d like me to keep it that way.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Do you think he would react badly to it?”  
“Bad experiences have taught me it is best to leave it alone.”  
“If you think he wouldn’t react well, then you shouldn’t be with him.”  
Greg knew he was right. He would try and hold onto what he had with Mycroft as long as he could. He had run it over in his head a thousand times in a thousand different ways how Mycroft would react to his family tree. None of them were good. He didn’t get a chance to respond as Sherlock walked into his office. 

(After Mycroft kidnaps John)  
Greg could sense something was wrong as soon as Mycroft walked into the house. His mind wasn't quite at home just yet.   
"Myc?" Greg walked over to him, looking him over.   
Mycroft looked at him and really looked him over, as if trying to find something he had missed. It took him a few moments to find words again.   
"I had a very interesting conversation with John Watson this evening."   
Greg nodded "And...?" he prompted, a sinking feeling in his stomach.   
"He told me you were a Hell Hound."   
"He-oh..." John had told Mycroft. This could be bad, very, very bad. He was probably giving off a thousand indicators that I he was guilty as charged. He took a subconscious step back. "Not sure if I should be packing my bags or not." Greg bit nervously at his lip.   
"I would certainly like to more about it." Mycroft said with a neutral tone but Greg could smell the variety of emotions. But he wasn't pointing a gun at Greg, nor could he hear a team of hired men come to take him away for experiments.   
"Not very practiced at this sort of thing. I've never really had to explain anything about...it before because usually my scent gives me away." He stopped. "I take it you spoke with John about what he is if the subject came up."   
"I did. He said you threatened him when you first met."  
"I was afraid he'd... Well he didn't and won't so no need to worry there then."  
Mycroft nodded, mulling it over. Greg could see his mind spinning and decided it was time to distract him.  
"Hey, what do you say we watch on old movie or read a book?"  
"May I see?"  
"See the movie?"  
Mycroft gave him a look.   
"Another night."  
"You will not frighten me, Gregory." Mycroft insisted.  
Greg brought his hand up to Mycroft's cheek and rubbed it with his thumb.   
"Your head is probably already spinning with all the new information about monsters existing. Let's leave it at that for now and give you time to process that first."

(  
"John said you were called a 'Hound of the gods'. Could you clarify what he means by that?"  
"Technically speaking, I'm the offspring of that particular hound." Gregory told him. "You know Greek mythology."   
"Cerberus was the Hound of Hades."  
"That's... My dad."  
Mycroft paled a bit. Greg cursed. He shouldn't have said anything.  
"Gregory, calm yourself. I was merely reflecting on the size of the dinner dish I would have to bring in if I was to invite him for dinner."  
Mycroft smiled and the two started laughing.  
"Though it would explain how you got that devilish smile."  
"But seriously though, don't feel like you got to do that. He's rather busy if you can imagine."  
"Sounds like it would be a hell of a time reserving dinner as it were."  
"it is."

(After the fight wish Sebby)  
"You saw then."  
"Yes, I saw."  
"'M sorry you had to see me... all bloodied up and furry."  
"Gregory, there is nothing to apologize for."  
"Must've... Looked horrible."  
"Rest, Gregory."  
"When I'm healed up, I'll show you properly. If you still want to, that is."  
"Of course. Whenever you're ready."

(Not sure, a lull afterwards)  
"You said you would show me 'another time'. Has that time arrived yet?"  
Greg stopped mid chew from his dinner then swallowed. "You serious?"  
"I would not have asked otherwise."  
Greg chewed his food, thinking it over. "I'm surprised, to be honest."  
"Why?" Mycroft asked him, curious of what it was that was eating away at his partner to be so reluctant.  
"Just am."  
"Do try again."  
"It's nothing, Myc."  
"What is it you are afraid will happen?"  
"That you'll leave. Run from the monster hiding under human skin as it were."  
Mycroft was somewhat surprised Gregory was so forward this time. "Did I leave you after I was told of it? Did I run screaming when I saw you laying on the ground bleeding? Did I withdraw myself from you?"  
"No." Greg said quietly.  
"No, instead I asked to know more about you, nursed you while you were injured. I asked you to show me."  
"Why?" it came out as a whisper.   
Mycroft rose from his chair and moved to kneel beside Greg.  
"Because you are not a monster. I have met monsters and they are very mortal. You, Gregory, are the hell hound who became a police officer. To protect people from the real monsters and you have done so valiantly. My dear Gregory, you are the farthest thing from a monster."  
"You may not think that with a close up."  
"I will wager you, if that will prompt you to shake yourself from this ‘slump’ as they say."  
"Tickets to a match vs tickets to an opera night?"  
"Oh the wager is on." Mycroft grinned.  
"I can do it here but outdoors is more ideal."  
"I have a place we can go."  
"Alright."

"This is nice."  
"Mm, it is."  
Greg fidgeted with his pockets and realized he was being ridiculous. Mycroft had seen him before.  
"Whenever you are ready."  
Greg nodded then shifts before he loses his nerve.   
Mycroft stared and watched Gregory move nervously. Mycroft moved towards him and caressed his muzzle. "Exquisite."   
Greg pressed his nose into Mycroft's hand and gave a soft whine.   
"It suits you, the coat."  
Greg moves his eyes to look up at Mycroft but then drops them remembering that his eyes literally glow red. Mycroft catches the movement and moves Greg's muzzle up so he can look him directly in the eyes. "None of that now. You do not need to hide from me." Mycroft reminded him.  
Greg nods then begins to sniff Mycroft's coat, trying to pinpoint where he had been that day as a distraction.   
Mycroft studies the hound in front of him with excruciating detail. He takes in the coarseness of the fur, sharpness and shape of the claws, height, length, and width of the body. Greg stood patiently as he did so, hoping it would satisfy his curiosity a fraction.  
"You have scars. Fight scars."   
Greg nodded  
"From siblings?"  
He nodded again.  
"Something else caused this one here." Mycroft stated as his fingers traced old scars.  
Greg nudged him lightly, missing Mycroft's attention to his ears he had scratched earlier.  
"Oh very well." he put on a sigh but then began to scratch his ears again.  
Greg looked up at him after a while, are you finished?   
"You may...shift back if you wish."   
Greg took a few steps back and did so.   
"You really get into it when you’re deducing and taking in new information for that mind palace of yours.” Greg commented.   
"I had a very intriguing subject to observe." Mycroft replied and closed the gap to give Greg a kiss. "Thank you, my dear. Words cannot describe my gratitude for what you did."  
"Anything for you, love."  
“Shall we stay here for the evening and return to London in the morning?”  
“That actually sounds like a good plan.”  
“Then let us retire for the evening.” Mycroft lead them both inside the waiting estate house. Mycroft gave a discrete sniff and realized that Gregory’s scent was different than it had been before he shifted.   
“You smell different.”  
“Like ash?” Greg asked tentatively.  
“Yes.” Mycroft replied.   
“It’s a side effect from being an offspring of Cerberus. The ash smell is from Hades. The lost souls or so I’m told.”   
Mycroft nodded absently and added that information to his ever growing stack that needed to be sorted appropriately. 

Greg went to shower when they returned. He wanted to get rid of the ash scent that lingered on his skin and let the hot water calm his tense muscles. He had been afraid that Mycroft would change his mind about being with him if he saw just how monstrous he looked up close.   
But he hadn’t.   
Greg came out of the shower in his towel to go find some pyjama pants when Mycroft stopped him.  
"Myc?" He asked when Mycroft didn't move.  
"The scars show faintly on your human skin." He said finally while he traced each one he could see lightly with his fingers.  
"Do you want me to tell you about them?" Greg asked him softly. Mycroft looked up into Gregory's eyes then nodded. "There seems to be many."  
Greg gently guided them both to bed and laid down with only his towel for cover.  
Mycroft sat down on the bed next to him and traced his finger over one large one on his side.  
"Care to deduce?"  
"I would say some sort of large claw due to the roughness of the cut." He traced the one highest on Greg’s shoulder.   
“That’s from another hound like me.”  
“This one here?”  
“A hag who didn’t like me freeing her victims.”  
Mycroft made his way down until he reached the towel and stopped. “May I?”  
“Since when do you ask permission?”  
Mycroft smiled and untied the towel in search of more scars.   
That evening as they lay in bed, Greg smiled to himself as he relished in the fact that someone finally accepted him as he was even when he didn’t all the time. He had Mycroft with no deep dark secret in between them anymore and gods it was a relief. Greg knew Mycroft would have secrets because of his work but he was okay with that. Being with the man that saved Britain on a daily basis had to come with some sacrifices.


End file.
